


Moulded Mind

by birdieofthenight



Category: DC - Fandom, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Bondage, Cock Rings, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Prostate Massage, Prostate Stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdieofthenight/pseuds/birdieofthenight
Summary: The mission failed, it was obvious the moment Superman had attacked, having failed to catch his lie for some reason. The noirette had no idea as to why, or even how the hero hadn’t heard his heartbeat as a lie.The attack in itself was enough to take Renegade out to the point of causing him to black out.A long, pained groan could be heard when he finally woke up; his mask was still on but the rest of his uniform felt nonexistent. Not in any particular mood to open his eyes for confirmation with how his head throbbed, he shifted an arm to feel for whether there were clothes or not out of curiosity only to be unable to move his arms. The thought of clothing quickly faded after he came to a realisation, being that he’d lost; he’d lost and he was locked up, he didn’t know how but something had tricked Superman into thinking he’d told the truth.





	Moulded Mind

**[ S T A R T ]**

 

The mission failed, it was obvious the moment Superman had attacked, having failed to catch his lie for some reason. The noirette had no idea as to why, or even how the hero hadn’t heard his heartbeat as a lie.

The attack in itself was enough to take Renegade out to the point of causing him to black out.

A long, pained groan could be heard when he finally woke up; his mask was still on but the rest of his uniform felt non-existent. Not in any particular mood to open his eyes for confirmation with how his head throbbed, he shifted an arm to feel for whether there were clothes or not out of curiosity only to be unable to move his arms. The thought of clothing quickly faded after he came to a realisation, being that he’d lost; he’d lost and he was locked up, he didn’t know how but something had tricked Superman into thinking he’d told the truth.

 

He hadn’t noticed the eye peering from beyond where he lay, mainly due to the fact that he had yet to even open his own eyes and take in his surroundings, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon, well aware of the potential risk if he were to open his eyes and alert anyone that he was, in reality, awake.

Despite, the figure at the desk, who was already well aware of the consciousness of the younger, having already been alerted by the groans and mild shifting that the vigilante was finally awake.

 

The shadow hidden behind the desk in the far corner simply watched as the other laid on his back, at least for a moment. It wasn’t long before the older male felt need to act, silently, or as silently as a man his size was able, he worked his way towards the restrained, cocking his head slightly to the side as he stared at the still form, who seemed to refuse to open his eyes. The mercenary chuckled at the refusal to come to terms with his current situation.

“Pretending to be asleep, isn’t going to prevent this from happening.” The younger man’s eyes hesitantly cracked open, though despite he glared at the man, having expected to of awoken in a prison cell.

 

They’d lost, hadn’t they?

 

The last thing he remembered was being tackled by Superman prior to passing out. So why was he- Renegade’s eyes widened, taking note of his situation, noting his lack of clothes, restrained arms, growling again, as he attempted to pry his arms from the metal table he appeared to be restrained to.

“What did you do?” The man growled, still tugging at the metal cuffs, staring daggers at the other.

 

“That’s of no concern to you. I monitored your pulse when you were speaking with Superman.” The vigilante’s eyes widened slightly, as he realised that the metahuman knew, he realised that he knew he’d lied and realised why he was there. The attempts to escape his restraints heightened, he grit his teeth as the metal remained solid, as it chafed against his skin. “I would stop struggling, but it’s preferred if you continue; struggling will make this punishment so much more enjoyable to watch.” The older man purred, the smooth tone hit the younger’s ears like silk which sent an undesired shiver along his spine from the instinctively eerie feeling that hit him when he realised what it implied, then he thought it over, or more, how he got there, or even, why he was there, Superman had to of lost or he’d be in jail, “what happened?” Was all that left his lips as he chose to ignore the earlier comment in favour of the hero he looked up to and still did to this day.

“You should stop worrying about what happened to Superman, and start worrying about what’s going to happen to you.” Deathstroke’s tone, despite the words, was laced with what could only be described as amusement, which caused a ting of panic to spike in the other’s core, though he refrained from showing it. The sight of the constricting pupils was all the hint the mercenary needed to know that his words had some effect on the smaller man which caused a menacing chuckle to be emitted. The vigilante to become tense as the sound echoed off of the walls in an eerily natural manner.

 

The light blue eye remained on the naked vigilante when he decided to finally speak up about the room, “take a good look around you.” Renegade did, eyes scanned the surroundings, sucking in a breath. The younger male found he’d been cuffed onto a metal table, as he’d already discovered, a smaller table at his side, a few choice tools lying on it’s top, tools which led realization to find the restrained breath picked up pace slightly. Upon closer inspection the man noted the three whips in varying sizes displayed on the wall above him, even the sight made him wince, familiar with the sensation of a tail cut into his flesh well. The tugs at the restraints started not long after he’d soaked in his surroundings, then moved to pull a lockpick out of his glove before it fully sunk in that every accessory except his mask had been removed from his current person, “no…” he murmured, starting his search for a way out.

“Yes, Renegade,” the taller form said in a slightly louder volume than how the younger had spoken, “and those are just today’s tools, tomorrow will be so much better, then the day after that; it can only go uphill from here...Renegade.” This time as he spoke the vigilante’s name his tone went cold with the spite made clear.

 

At this point the vigilante was frantic as he gradually control of his emotions once the words set in, needing to escape this maniac before it went any farther, struggle only growing as the man began to walk his way. Deathstroke cocked his head slightly to the side, as though amused by the other’s growing panic, a dark chuckle enveloping the room, making Renegade tense farther. “...Slade… Don’t touch me…” The smaller form said through gritted teeth, as the mercenary edged closer to his target, another deep chuckle was formed due to the words, the words which teetered on the edge between anger and fear.

“I’ll touch you as little as able.” The villain said, amusement still present in his voice despite the clear malice, as he moved to the table at Renegade's side, looking over the toys that littered the top. It didn’t matter if he touched the younger or not; not for him anyway but when it came to the restrained man it was a different story all together. He looked him over, only for a brief moment in debate over whether or not the still masked male had actually meant what he’d said before he pulled out a bottle of lubrication and placed it on a table in view of the traitor, “but do be warned that if I can’t touch you, then I can’t make this any easier on you.” The expression on the noirette’s face was priceless as it was apparent that fear had long since set in from the gesture of following through on the punishment without any lubrication, “you’re not to blame me for what happens next, kid.”

 

Renegade’s eyes remained practically planted on the bottle of lubrication, almost as if he wanted to ask but was trapped in a mental debate over whether it was worth it or not. The other man had already moved to set the bottle back in his belt, though refrained from securing the pocket so the younger man could see it throughout his punishment. Deathstroke scanned the table a moment longer before deciding on a toy with a smooth head, which got thinner in the middle for his ring to secure it in place with smaller wide part on the outside, making sure there was a way to get it back out. “No… no, no…” Renegade tried in a final plead for mercy, though it seemed to go on deaf ears as the man continued, placing the tip of the toy at the other’s hole. His eye returned to the vigilante as soon as he was in a position to be able to shove if the younger still refused, “last chance.” He mentally counted down as he gave the smaller form a chance to ask for some form of preparation, not fussed one way or the other whilst he simply soaked up the show as the masked face mildly contorted with conflictions, before the idiotic, stubborn nature kicked in and all he received was a glare to which Deathstroke responded with a sadistic smile, his eye examined the split second of fear before he pushed the toy in, dry, which pulled out obvious regrets from the smaller figure, who grit his teeth momentarily before his head leaned back in a silent scream. Deathstroke didn’t release the toy until it reached the dip in the midst, where it’d be able to secure itself in his end, making it impossible for the man to push it out with his hands secured as they were. For a moment Deathstroke simply stepped away from the other as he simply admired the pained expression painting his features, as his mind attempted to combat the pain, the white-haired man found the look to his liking.

 

The mercenary allowed the form to fight against his restraints for a bit, while he watched small cuts appear on his paled flesh, before he moved back to the side table and picked up a black, leather cock ring dotted with a line of silver circles. It was obvious before he even started to slip the material over the limp cock, what its purpose was, and it made terror spike in Renegade's very being, hands in fists as he dared to try and avoid the other’s grasp, thrashing on the metal bedding. “I suggest you relax, fighting it will only make this so much worse on you...not that I’m complaining.” Deathstroke knew he’d win either way, he found satisfaction out of the younger’s obedience and even his pain, so punishments or rewards for the younger was of neutral opinion in the older man’s eyes. Renegade remained increasingly reluctant but did as he was told, more to try and ease the pain of a large object having just been shoved inside of him without any form of preparation. The larger man stood over Renegade with a sharp gaze, riddled with anger at being betrayed, but also mild hints of amusement as he continued the punishment, pulling out a small remote. “Lucky for you, it’s battery powered.” The words hit the other’s ears like a ragged blade pierced through his skin, the restrained starting his struggle again despite the pain that coursed through him, trying to kick out, though he found that to be a mistake the moment his foot shot out, only causing a greater pain to find him. His entire body was tensed at this point, the mercenary released a deep foreboding chuckle as the man wriggled on the table, though the sight did nothing to deter Deathstroke as his thumb pressed a button located at the top of the miniature remote, watching the other immediately seize, back arched in discomfort as the vibrations rattled his person which caused a wave of nausea to strike his core, making him swallow, body unsure of how to react to the sudden feeling.

 

Slade stood back as he removed his mask and watched the display from afar, not in the mood to chance a kick to the face if the other got daring, eye on the form with a steady gaze. Renegade’s toes curled, hands balling into fists at his sides as he processed the pleasure, bliss clear as his head leaned back, slight sounds of pleasure managing to slip past gritted teeth. The white-haired male decided to stick with the patient approach, he needed the vigilante to break before he could be trusted off of the short leash, intent on being the very darkness which the smaller flees from and the light he’s fleeing toward which meant he had to tread very carefully and evaluate every step of the way over the timing of what he does; if it wasn’t for the end goal he’d of shown a lot less restraint in being in the butt plug’s place instead.

 

A sudden noise caused Slade’s attention to return to the other man, snapping him from his thought, when he smirked, finding the view to his liking. Renegade seemed to be attempting to push himself off the table, heels dug into the table as his back arched, head scraped against the slick surface, as his eyes shut tight, he still seemed to be trying to combat the pleasure, though he still attempted to hold back his cries of bliss, he soon felt a familiar warmth coil in his gut.

 

Slade shifted his stance at the sight, he had to restrain himself, glad he had acquired a strong sense of self restraint over his years, knowing he simply had to wait.

 

The vigilante failed to hold back the tears forming when his body gradually met with the point of desperation for his release, the tighter constriction around his member left him in a state of pained realisation on what exactly prevented his release which he’d only bothered to note not too long after he’d regained consciousness. The now murky gaze slowly turned to face the unrestrained male with obvious need filled his features but the fire remained eminent in his eyes; Renegade refused to beg and nothing was going to change that anytime soon, especially not something like this.

 

Slade noted the expression as he came to the decision that the younger male needed a bit more motivation before he gave in to the feelings being forced on him, he the remote onto the side table before he picked up the red silicon extension, which curved to stimulate the prostate, a smirk, malicious in nature, spread across his face. Renegade immediately pieced together the intent and tried to push his heels against the metal as his eyes darted from side to side in attempt to somehow locate a miracle escape. “Slade… Don’t…” The larger man chuckled, slowly making his way over toward the smaller form, this time he remained completely silent as he pulled the other toy out, not bothered to remain on the side of caution as he removed the plug before holding the larger toy against the vigilante’s twitching entrance and he spared him a glance with a wordless offering to lubricate it if he asked nicely. Just as the toy’s tip penetrated, Slade heard the voice say something inaudible, nonchalantly shifted his gaze to meet with Renegade’s and listened as the smaller body swallowed before speaking up, “please…”

 

He almost expected the mercenary to continue pushing the toy in the rest of the way after a long pause of all movement in complete silence before he felt the toy being pulled out, watching as a thin layer of lubricant was spread over the toy but it was better than nothing.

 

The toy lay at his hole for what seemed the longest seconds of the vigilante’s life, he feared the initial penetration, he feared the fact he knew it would likely lead to less pain and more pleasure. Renegade tensed and braced himself for the inevitable as he felt the toy start to move, initially penetrating at a slow pace which gave his entry a spark of bliss, as friction rubbed against his ring, though he found he was able to restrain the cries and moans, as least until the movement changed. The mercenary kept a close eye on his reactions, quickly figuring out what part the smaller form was enjoying, then began to move it in and out at a slow pace and gradually worked it in further, which made his smirk apparent when the younger made eye contact, enjoying the fearful lust which glossed over the noirette’s gaze. The look seemingly begged the mercenary to stop, though in more undertones than anything else, the hatred still forefront as Slade continued his game as he pushed against the toy once more, before starting the process again, watching the need slowly take over the defiance on the other’s features.

 

Tears started to escape the edges of the mask, pain causing his cock to twitch in discomfort as the toy continued it’s intrusion, though, to Renegade's displeasure, the man started to slow as he began to toy with his insides, the restrained developed thoughts of wanting the man to move faster meet him, followed by thoughts of spite toward himself for even having such desires. Renegade tried to chalk it up to regular human reactions of lust slowly became more futile the more he fought himself, refusing to give into the pleasure despite the part of him which only wanted to absorb it. The man couldn’t possibly of noticed the contorting reactions going on with how deep in thought he seemed to be, seeming to have decided it was the pleasure being forced on the other that caused the looks.

 

Slade decided to snap the other into a more suitable expression, all restraint lost, as he slammed the toy into the other, watching Renegade’s eyes widen. The victim didn’t know what to do, feeling the toy pound into his prostate without warning, unable to prepare himself for the wave of ecstasy which struck him. His head leaned, a ragged moan of surprise leaving parted lips, as his back arched, toy stayed stagnant for at least a minute, though if you’d asked him he’d have said hours, before returning to the slower speed, gently brushed against his prostate before it retreated. The hard, quick thrusts didn’t come in any sort of pattern, Slade seemed to do it whenever he grew bored with a clear desire to make the man on the table mad, causing his body to twist and writhe against the bliss spiking his cock.

 

This was too much, Renegade thought as the process continued, pain only growing with each passing moment, along with the copious amount of pleasure despite how inconsistent it was. The torture went on to a point that the noirette’s cock was practically presenting an argument of its own for making him beg, but he continued to refuse in favour of his pride as he somehow managed to refrain from speaking up even as the larger male began to stroke him, which somehow alleviated a bit of the pressure but caused larger levels of recoil as soon as he felt the sudden stops, pulling more of a reaction though there was still no words. Slade had reached a certain point of minimal patience, manning his own problem to deal with in his pants. He strapped the smaller male’s leg to the table, then strapped the prostate stimulator to the younger before making his way over to the door, holding up a remote, “I’ll be back tomorrow night and this’ll continue.” He said and turned the vibrator onto a randomized setting so that it wouldn’t stay on the same setting which meant the younger wouldn’t get a break while he was away, then exited the room, the door locking behind him, he pulled a microphone up to his lips with a smirk, about to make it obvious that he could hear everything as he walked to his quarters, using the speakers which were limited to the room the noirette lay defenseless in.

 

“Goodnight, Renegade.”

 

**[ T W E N T Y - F O U R - H O U R S - L A T E R ]**

 

The following night the older man strode into the room, seeing the younger male seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown due to the near twenty-four hours left alone on the table. Slade did nothing as he ignored the other, walking towards his desk, he pulled out a few papers. “Slade- Slade t-take it out- please…” Renegade croaked out as he pleaded, breaking the silence, eyes on the larger man as the stopped what he was doing, he took a moment of debate his next move carefully, it was still too early before he made his way over, slowly. The black-haired man’s anticipation was clear as the other rounded the table, he stared down with a sadistic gaze.

“What do you need?” The mercenary asked in a neutral tone, as though the other wasn’t practically writhing in front of him.

 

The restrained kept his gaze, which was nothing more than a fogged cloud of ecstasy by this point, glued to the other, a gaze which begged for release. “T- take it- take it off…” His voice was weak, as though he’d been screaming for the entirety of the time between sessions, Renegade appeared smaller than the other remembered.

 

“You said not to touch you.” Slade reminded, starting to turn back to his work.

 

“Wait!” The vigilante cried out before he was able to restrain himself, voice choked as he realized he’d spoken.

 

“Yes?” Slade asked, ceasing his walk towards the desk as he turned his head slightly.

 

Renegade looked as though he was on the verge of biting off his arms to escape the pain and pleasure which practically pulsated through his core, though the slight remnant of self-respect he’d retained throughout the experience still held back his need. At least it held back his plea until the other started to walk away again. “Wait! Please… you- you can- you can touch me… just- just take it off…!” The mercenary chuckled darkly to himself, immediate in making the other visibly shiver with a low groan, not wanting Slade to make him properly beg any further, unsure with what the dark chuckle actually meant for him. Anticipation crept up, his cock throbbed excitedly as he saw the hand move close to it then progressed to slowly and sensually fist his member before he stopped but kept his hand in place which earned desperate rolling hips for the friction. The older male did nothing but watch with an amused gaze, as Renegade thrusted as much as able, he bit his lower lip to restrain a whine that sat at the back of his throat. Despite, the noise sounded, and while it was in a muffled mess, it was clear to the mercenary what it entailed, making a slight, single beat chuckle leave him which seemed much like a victorious gloat to the restrained.

 

“Please…” Renegade begged, he found his tone whining as it dripped with need; he hated it. “‘Please,’ what?” The mercenary questioned as he made it clear that he wanted the black-haired man to beg so much more. In response to the silence he resumed touching the man in a way that he could feel each throb, going back to fisting the smaller man’s member, hanging his release right in front of him.’ Renegade’s eyes aimed at the other, seemingly in search for an answer to a problem without a solution, mind racing for the conclusion.

“Please- please t-take it off…” The vigilante tried under the assumption that the violator wanted him to beg more, be more specific on his request, though as the man simply continued stroking his shaft at a steady pace, he nearly cried in frustration, breath a bit erratic as he tried using his numb mind to figure out what the other wanted. “Please!” He started to cry. “Take it off! Please t-take it off…!” The younger male tugged against the metal, tugging his scarred arms again, looking like a child throwing a tantrum, as he thrashed on the table, when it clicked, freezing for a moment of realization before he started to frantically say as the other wished. “Master! P-please, m-master! Let- let me- let me cum!” The nude form felt tears trickle along the sides of his face as his body begged for the pain and pleasure to cease, this torture far worse than anything he’d ever experienced throughout the entirety of his life.

 

Not even during his time as Batman’s sidekick, all the times he’d been kidnapped by psychopaths, had he ever felt such pain, coupled with the intense amount of pleasure radiating through him; he needed it to stop. “Please… M-ma- master…” Renegade said in a low, quiet tone, not even attempting to restrain the tears anymore, he felt like he’d been beaten near to death, as he lie on his back, left to wriggle one final time in plea.

 

“Good, pet.” The mercenary said when he leaned over to stroke the side of his face with a thumb, as he pulled the ring off. White erupted from the other’s cock in multiple loads, as the vigilante squirmed in pure bliss, an unrestrained moan passing his lips as he felt the build up of pressure being relieved from his body after so long, even more so as the prostate stimulator was finally turned off and removed from his body.

Slade’s eye stayed on the man as he’d passed out not too long after his release, he kept silent with a victorious expression filling his features and he removed the restraints before he carefully carried him to get the body to a bath he’d asked Wintergreen to get filled up before he’d even made his way to the room, after he’d already seen the surveillance cameras and even heard the audio, well aware that he wouldn’t last so long with a little nudge off the edge. He carefully pulled the mask off and cleaned every inch of him off and out, getting the smaller body dried off before Slade finally patched the smaller figure up. There was no such generosity as to leave the man unrestrained but the next room he left him in this time was a little more comfortable, with more padding but the set up still paralleled the previous and he soon left the unmasked Dick Grayson alone to sleep.

 

**[ E N D ]**

 

**-**

 

**[A R C H I V E O F O U R O W N](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255288) **

 

**D E V I A N T A R T**

 

**[I N S T A G R A M](https://www.instagram.com/p/BsFkKrvF-6-/) **

 

**[T W I T T E R](https://twitter.com/birdyofthenight/status/1080031294292058112) **

 

**W A T T P A D**


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